


With Heart

by Judgement



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Action/Adventure, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 17:41:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8723047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Judgement/pseuds/Judgement
Summary: A successful heart transplant leaves Bucky with hallucinations that make him doubt what's real and what isn't, the pulse beneath his fingertips or the pulse beneath yours?[Abandoned/Unfinished work][Reader x Bucky]





	

**Author's Note:**

> Another oneshot I had huge ideas for but hasn't really gotten anywhere due to lack of motivation and etc. Enjoy! Disclaimer as usual I don't own the characters used.

They had been backed onto their last line of defense, a deep dug up trench with failing barricades at the top and too many and yet not enough people running it back and forth. The air was hot, and the fabric of their uniforms left them sweaty and the trench smelled like sweat, feces, and vomit, so many people packed together, so many of them dead.

“Steve,” Bucky breathes out, holding his gun up and pressed against his shoulder as his head pressed against the hard wall of the trench they currently found themselves in. Sweat clung to his face, into his hair, dirt and sweat made up a second layer of skin, but the smell he was used to, the heat was used to. “We’re not gonna make it.” He finally rasps out closing his eyes and pressing his head further against the trench until the inkling of pain reminded him that this was real, that they really were the last line of defense. “We need to evacuate, get the injured out of here first the rest will hold them off until we can get them out then whoever is left can follow up after.”

It’s a shitty strategy and he knew it, but with not many options and too many injured they needed to start evacuating them. The pounding of his heart fills up his ears and drowns up the noise, the lingering touch of death ghosts of his shoulder and anxiety wells up inside him, he doesn’t want to admit it out loud, not to Steve, but he was scared.

“Steve?” He repeats when no answer from his best friend comes, eyes opening to find the once heavily filled barracks of the trench completely empty. Panic seizes his chest, makes his heart thump wildly and he drops his gun, pushing away from the trench wall to look around. A heavy thick fog lingers in the absence of all his comrades, not even the sounds of fire from the encroaching enemy could be heard.

“Steve!?” He tries again, panic and anxiety welling up into his chest, making his hands shake as adrenaline floods his system. His feet move before he really knows where he’s even going, heavy footsteps breaking out into a run as he calls out his best friend in desperation. The dirt beneath his boots heavy, crunching and echoing in the silence and the fog only brings a sense of foreboding and it makes him move faster. Each step faster along with his heart beat as he turns another corner of the trench to be met with the same empty pathway as the one he had just come from.

“What’s going on?” He’s hoping someone answers, his hands trembling as fear thrums into his veins and his breathing becomes labored.

“-ey!”

He turns around on a dime, eyes wide and he steps back in surprise to see a girl there, roughly his age but with beautiful [color] hair and [color] eyes.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?!” He is frightened, less by the appearance of another person but this was a battlefield and she could get hurt, or worse, die.

“Calm down,” She speaks quietly, with a smile on her face but he’s not hearing any of it, can barely hear anything over his own pounding heart.

“You shouldn’t be here,” He’s taken another glance over, barefoot with a pure white dress on that doesn’t have a smudge or speck of dirt on it. Almost like a ghost out of the fog and he doesn’t spare a second glance, not wanting to rough handle her but not wanting to keep her on encroaching enemy territory either. “We need to get you out of here.” He says, but his eyes are flickering back and forth and he can’t help but worry about his best friend. Where had they all gone?

“Hey!” She calls again arms grabbing his forearm as he attempts to walk past her, lead her to safety.

“We can’t stay here!” He almost shouts but refrains, not wanting to scare her.

“Calm down,” She says again and this time her free hand reaches out to press over his rapidly beating heart. “You just got another one, try not to burst it will ya?” She is smiling and beneath her touch he can feel his rapidly thrumming heart begin to slow as the anxiety and panic flushes out of his system, breathing evening out.

“What?” He looks down at her hand and back up, confused blue eyes looking into her [color] ones.

“I didn’t give you this so you could send it into overdrive.” She laughs and it fills him with a sense of peace.

“I-”

* * *

“Buck!”

Blue eyes peel open with a start, heavy beating heart rapidly slowing down as he turns his head to look over at Steve’s face, broken out in concern.

“You were thrashing pretty wildly in your sleep, you alright?” The concern fills up his tone, too, and Bucky nods stiffly, pushing himself up into a sitting position as he wipes away the hair that sticks to his face thanks to the sweat.

“I’m fine,” He breathes out, “Sorry.” He apologizes, hoping that he hadn’t caused his best friend too much distress but Steve only presses a hand to his shoulder with a firm squeeze.

“The doc said to take it easy, you’re still recovering from the surgery, alright? I gotta head out, I’ll be back later, though.” He waits for the response from Bucky who nods his head and gives him a brief smile before Steve returns it with twice as much enthusiasm before heading out the door.

Dragging a hand down his face and up through his hair he lets out a heavy sigh before tossing off the sweat soaked blankets and pressing feet to the cold hardwood floor before hefting himself up. Easy not to aggravate the stitches across his chest before dragging his feet to the bathroom, pushing the door open with his shoulder as he peels off the white wifebeater and tosses it onto the floor and presses both hands to the sink.

“If only recovery didn’t take so long.” He grumbled, though grateful that they had even managed to find a heart donor before he passed away, the recovery period was taking its toll on him. The normal morning runs between him, Steve, and Sam were put on hold as well as any other physically straining activity. He wasn’t even allowed to lift a heavy grocery bag and it was driving him absolutely nuts.

“One day at a time.” He reminds himself as he flicks the faucet on, splashing cold water on his face to help wake himself up before his blue eyes peer up into the mirror to stare at his exhausted and weary expression. Sleep didn’t come well these days, not since the surgery and it left him with permanent bags under his eyes, ones darker than usual.

The medicine cabinet peels open with a squeak as he pulls the medication off the shelf, popping the lid and downing one of the small capsules. One of the few things he had to adjust to taking every morning, with the new heart came many new things, a second life. As it squeals shut he freezes in place, blue eyes staring at her form in the reflection of the mirror, heart skipping a painful beat and he flinches, watching the smile on her face drop to concern as he does so.

“Calm down,” She repeats, like a mantra from his dream pounding into his head.

“Who are-” He turns around on a dime to an empty bathroom, wild eyes looking around as his feet yank the door closed but no one is behind it, nor behind the shower curtain and he backs away and looks back into the mirror, rubbing at his face when he sees no one there.

“Keep it together Buck, you’re seeing things.” He’d bring it up to the doctor at his next check-up, hopefully, it was just the medication playing tricks on him, and not some hallucination, he didn’t need another thing to mark off his shitty condition.


End file.
